


Kestrel Trevelyan Ficlets

by Ltleflrt



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fanart, Fluff, M/M, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 21:57:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2889359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ltleflrt/pseuds/Ltleflrt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mini-fics about Inquisitor Kestrel Trevelyan and Dorian Pavus being adorable together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Emprise Du Lion sucks

"Mountains… cold…" the next words dripped with derision. " _Let’s bring_   _Dorian_.”

Kestrel tried to keep the amused smile from his face as he listened to his lover grumble.  He was already walking on thin ice - figuratively speaking; the river was frozen solid, after all - for bringing Dorian along to one of the coldest places in Orlais.  The last thing he wanted to do was annoy Dorian by laughing at him.

Unfortunately, he didn’t smooth out his expression quickly enough.  ”You think this is funny?” Dorian snapped as he walked delicately over the slippery ice at Kestrel’s side.  ”Just for that I will make you suffer as I do.”

"How?  The cold doesn’t bother me that much," Kestrel pointed out.  

"I’ll think of something."

Kestrel stopped, and caught Dorian’s wrist as he tried to storm past him down the path.  He ignored Varric’s smirk and Blackwall’s impatient huff and pulled Dorian into his arms.  ”I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Dorian’s grey eyes narrowed in a hateful scowl that would make Kestrel worry if he didn’t feel the way the other mage leaned into him.  ”Oh?  I’m not sure you can.”

Kestrel leaned forward and brushed their lips together.  Dorian’s were cold, and Kestrel felt a pang of guilt for asking him to come along.  ”I will,’ he insisted.  ”When we make it back to camp, I’ll warm you up.”

"Oh really?"  Dorian’s eyelids drooped, and he smiled slowly.

"Really," Kestrel breathed against him.  Then he leaned back and held up a hand, where a small flame burst into life in the cup of his palm.  "I’m useful that way."

Dorian huffed and pushed him away.  ”I honestly do not know why I put up with you.”  

"Because of that thing I can do with my-"

"Whoa!" Varric broke in.  "If you’re going there, at least wait until we’re somewhere that I can take notes."

"Wait for me to be out of earshot," Blackwall sighed.

The Grey Warden’s long suffering expression made Dorian perk right up.  ”That may take you a fair bit off, my friend.  Our dear Inquisitor’s special talents make it difficult for me to stay quiet.”

Blackwall groaned and ran a hand over his eyes, and Kestrel was pleased to see Dorian’s eyes light up and a wicked grin spread across his features over the warrior’s discomfort.  Dorian continued to tease the warrior as they resumed their trek across the Elfsblood river. 

Kestrel smiled.  Maybe he wouldn’t have to try too hard to gain Dorian’s forgiveness, but he’d be sure to put the extra effort in anyway.  After all, the sounds Dorian made were…

Well, let’s just say that Blackwall was going to be really irritated with him come morning, but it would be worth it.


	2. Please Don't Call Me That

"Will there be anything else, Your Worship?"

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Kestrel forced a grateful smile for the servant who had brought him a small meal.  He waved her away.  ”No, that will be all, thank you.”

The servant dipped into a polite curtsy.  ”Yes, Your Worship.”

This time Kestrel didn’t try to hide his scowl when the servant turned her back and left the room where Dorian was just entering.  The Tevinter mage no longer knocked, but Kestrel had made it clear that he wasn’t required to.

"What’s wrong with you?" Dorian sauntered across Kestrel’s chambers and came to stand over him where he sat at his desk.  He reached out one long, slim finger and tapped the edge of the carafe of wine.  "I would suspect your wine was too sour with the face you’re making."

Kestrel sighed and turned away from the reports on his desk so that he could face Dorian.  He was glad Dorian was here because he needed a distraction.  ”I just don’t like that title,” he grumbled as Dorian moved to stand between his spread knees.

Dorian’s eyes widened, and Kestrel couldn’t tell for certain if his expression of astonishment was genuine or not.  ”What?  You don’t like being referred to as ‘Your Worship’?” He shook his head and tutted quietly.  ”You had better get used to it.  There are far more lofty titles that I’m sure will be flung at you eventually.”

Wrinkling his nose, Kestrel shook his head.  ”I’m not sure I want to know.”

Dorian sank down to his knees and gave Kestrel a teasing look.  ”I don’t think I shall tell you anyway.  Wouldn’t want silly titles going to your head after all.”  

His hands, which he had braced on Kestrel’s knees so he could lower himself to the floor, started smoothing a path up his thighs.  His full, pink lips curved up under his mustache and his grey eyes twinkled with mischief.  ”But I can give you a lesson on how appropriate the title ‘Your Worship’ is if you’d like.”

Kestrel lifted one eyebrow, but didn’t otherwise move.  Dorian’s clever fingers had already found the ties to his breeches.  ”Oh?” he asked simply.  It took all of his willpower not to let his breathing hitch when Dorian’s hands slipped below the cloth to cup him.

Not that he could hide his reaction to having the other man kneeling between his knees.  And Dorian’s smile said he knew that Kestrel’s calm was just a facade.  

"Well," Dorian breathed softly as he freed Kestrel’s hardening flesh from his clothing.  "I certainly enjoy being on my knees for you."

"Hmm." It was a battle of wills, but Kestrel was determined to keep up the appearance of being unaffected.  He braced one elbow on his desk and leaned back in the chair.  It wasn’t a comfortable seat, by any means, but he barely noticed because he was so focused on his lover.  "I’m not sure I believe you, Dorian.  Maybe you should give me a demonstration."

"Of course," Dorian murmured as he bent down.  Just before his lips touched Kestrel’s aching skin, he said just loud enough for Kestrel to hear over the blood pounding in his ears, "Your Worship."

Kestrel let out a strained chuckle which ended on a groan when warm wet lips wrapped around him.  He dropped his head back on his shoulders, and dug the fingers of his free hand into Dorian’s silky hair.  ”You’re right,” he panted after a moment.  ”I’m beginning to see the appeal.”


	3. Fanart by Lich-loved on Tumblr

[Artwork by Lich-Loved](http://lich-loved.tumblr.com/post/105068007143/my-first-ever-commission-complete-done-for)

 


	4. Sparks Flew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guest starring Gabe Hawke from my Peace Begins With a Smile universe! It is my headcanon that Gabriel Hawke and Kestrel Trevelyan are the two strongest lightning mages to have been born in centuries. And I love the idea that they would test each other’s power for funsies. Their boyfriends will definitely NOT get along though. Fenris and Dorian? If those two ever meet, shit will totally hit the fan lol

The first time Kestrel Trevelyan met Gabriel Hawke, sparks flew.  Not in the sense that they were opposing personalities and couldn’t get along, or even a mutual sexual attraction (although there was definitely an undercurrent of  _something_ between them that could eventually lead to more if Kestrel weren’t already head-over-heels for a certain Tevinter Lordling).  No, nothing so metaphorical happened.

Quite literally, sparks flew.  Or maybe, more appropriately… lightning struck.

Kestrel could taste the ozone in the air when he approached the other mage.  The hair on his arms rose in reaction to the electricity hovering invisible between them.  He had never met another mage with his same affinity for electricity, but what he sensed from Hawke felt oddly familiar.  It was like looking in a magical mirror and seeing his twin, not in looks, but in power.

Excitement made his mouth dry, and he could tell from the way Hawke’s expression twitched into a mischievous smile that the other man could sense the lightning tingling under Kestrel’s skin as well.  

Shaking hands was probably not a good idea, but Kestrel was no longer bound by the Circle’s rules, and he didn’t feel the need to hide his power.  So when Hawke held out a hand, Kestrel took it.  And maybe loosened his control on his power, just a little.

When their hands slid together they both gasped, eyes widening in shock as the power arced between their palms a split second before they were both blinded and deafened by a searing flash of light and an ear splitting boom as a bolt of lightning ripped through the sky and struck the nearest tower.  Kestrel couldn’t hear or see anything for a moment, not even his own delighted laughter.  His only connection to reality was the warmth of Hawke’s hand in his own, squeezing and trembling.  

His ears cleared first, and through the ringing left behind he could hear Hawke’s laughter as well.  After a few blinks, he could see Hawke’s wide grin, and he wasn’t surprised when the other mage pulled him into a hug.  Kestrel returned it gladly.  The tingle of healing magic seeped into him, and he felt a frisson of electricity from it, telling him that Hawke was the one repairing his eyes and eardrums.

"We should probably never have sex," Hawke murmured against Kestrel’s newly healed ear.  "We’d probably tear down your fancy new castle."

"A shame," Kestrel teased back. 

They pulled back from each other, both grinning.  Beside them, Varric was sputtering some of the most creative curses Kestrel had ever heard and he was suddenly quite interested in reading some of his novels if he was that skilled with words.

Varric glared up at Hawke as the older mage’s healing aura washed over him and cleared his sight.  ”You two shitheads better not have done that on purpose.”

Hawke lifted a single brow.  ”Would I do that?”

Kestrel could sense the vast power held in check within the other mage, so he could only snort in amusement.  He wasn’t surprised by Varric’s outraged response.

"Yes!"

Hawke grinned and shrugged, and shot a sideways glance at Kestrel to share in the humor.  ”Well, you have me there.” _  
_

Kestrel could tell that he and Hawke would make great friends.


	5. Chapter 5

The fingertip tracing the tattoo around Kestrel’s eye is soft and uncallused and so gentle that it took him a moment to awaken under its touch.  He keeps his eyes closed and lets Dorian continue to explore.

"What possessed you to get this little splash of ink?" Dorian spoke softly and without his normal boisterous flair.  

"It was a brief moment of teenage rebellion," Kestrel murmured.  He smiled when Dorian’s fingertip was replaced by the brush of soft lips.  Kestrel could feel Dorian’s warm chuckle as clearly as he could hear it.  He shifted closer to his lover, rolling from his back to his side and tucking his knee between Dorian’s thighs.  Nuzzling closer to Dorian’s chest, Kestrel sighed.  "I was trying to impress someone."

"Did it work?"

Kestrel hummed his agreement.  ”He told me it brought out the blue in my eyes.”

"It does make you look rather dashing."  There was a smile in Dorian’s words.

"I think so," Kestrel responded with a grin of his own.

"Vain little peacock."

Kestrel pulled back and looked up at Dorian who was leaning on an elbow with his head propped in his hand.  ”Me?   _You_  are calling  _me_  a peacock?”

"Of course.  A very beautiful and majestic creature who constantly catches my eye."

Kestrel rolled his eyes and turned his head on the pillow.  ”You don’t need to flatter me, Dorian.  You’re already in my bed.”

"My love, do not turn those pretty eyes away." The same graceful fingers that touched Kestrel with the same reverence they used with ancient tomes in the library nudged at his jaw to bring his face back until he was forced to meet Dorian’s eyes.  "I get the sense that my compliments have caused offense."

He was keenly aware of where Dorian’s fingers rested on his skin.  Right on the ragged scar that twisted the right side of his face.  He lifted his hand and covered Dorian’s, pulling it away from his cheek and curling their fingers together over his heart.  He glanced away again, but not before he saw Dorian’s eyes widen in realization.

"Your scars," Dorian breathed.  "You believe you cannot be beautiful because of your scars."

Kestrel pressed his lips together, refusing to answer.

"You silly, silly bird," Dorian shifted until his weight rested on Kestrel’s chest.  He started pressing light kisses over Kestrel’s unscarred cheek.  "Don’t hide from me, Pretty Bird.  Let me see you."

It took a few more kisses and whispered entreaties before Kestrel turned his head again.  He looked up into Dorian’s grey eyes and found them soft with love and acceptance.  ”You can’t convince me they’re anything but ugly.”

"Ah, love," Dorian sighed.  "Who hurt you so?"

"I told you how I got them, Dorian.  My father-"

"Beat you when your powers manifested, and the wounds were left untended for too long.  Yes, yes, I remember."  Dorian’s fingers were tracing the scars now.  "Your father was a right bastard.  Something we have in common.  But I want to know who convinced you they are ugly."

Kestrel didn’t want to speak about his scars anymore.  They were a part of him now, and he barely noticed them most of the time.  The only time he remembered they were there was when someone stared at them in fascinated horror.  But it was hard to deny Dorian when he was looking so crestfallen over Kestrel’s refusal to answer.  

He sucked in a deep breath and sighed before turning his face into Dorian’s palm and nuzzling the soft skin there.  ”He was a Templar,” he finally answered.  ”A young, handsome recruit.”

"You had a crush," Dorian guessed.  "That couldn’t have ended well."

"Apparently he noticed me watching him, and he didn’t like the attention.  He humiliated me publicly, telling me in front of my fellow novices that no one would want an ugly-" Kestrel cut off.  He couldn’t repeat everything the Templar had said.  Even fifteen years later the hurt was still too much.

Dorian scoffed.  ”What. An. Idiot.”

Kestrel’s eyes snapped back to Dorian’s.

"These," Dorian’s fingers traced deliberately over the largest scar, "Do far more to add to your appeal than to detract from it.  And I am a shallow man who only loves beautiful things.  Clothing, shoes…. men…."

Kestrel laughed.  Dorian was far from shallow despite his love for fashion.  ”Dorian-” he began, only to have his protest be cut off before he could even begin.

"Hush, my Pretty Bird," Dorian commanded imperiously.  "I am far too busy admiring the beautiful man in my bed to listen to any words he speaks that are not love words."

"My bed," Kestrel pointed out, but he was grinning.

"Oh, details."

Very minor details, which Kestrel soon forgot once Dorian’s lips slanted over his own in an open mouthed kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently I have a thing for writing characters who have scars that make them feel ugly even though no one else thinks so.


	6. Chapter 6

One of the things Kestrel loves most about Dorian is his curiosity.  Finding Dorian tucked in a corner in the library, studying an ancient tome in a language Kestrel never learned is common.  Walking through Skyhold and catching Dorian's voice as he quizzes one of Fiona's displaced mages happens frequently.  Getting targeted with questions himself is almost a daily experience.

It always makes Kestrel smile.  Dorian wants to know everything, and every answer he receives leads to more questions.

But Dorian's latest question does not bring Kestrel that same sense of amused fondness.  Instead, a pit opens in his stomach and he struggles to keep from snapping at his curious lover to mind his own business.

Dorian, sensing that he has touched upon a delicate subject crosses the room and sits on the edge of Kestrel's desk.  He reaches out and brushes his thumb over Kestrel's unscarred cheek.  "You are not obligated to answer, love.  Feel free to tell me to cram my nosy questions somewhere dark and uncomfortable."

That does pull a laugh out of Kestrel, and the invisible hand squeezing his heart eases it's grip.  He leans into Dorian's touch.  "No, it's alright.  It's just... The Harrowing is difficult, and I've never told anyone about it before."

Dorian bristles like an angry cat.  "Well it is no wonder.  Forcing mages to face a trial like that or to face the Tranquility brand?  It is barbaric."

Kestrel nods absently.  His mind is overtaken by memories.  Somehow facing a demon in the visage of his father was far more terrifying than facing Corypheus' fear demon.  Hearing his father tell him that he loved him and was proud of him, and  _knowing_  it was an illusion was painful.  Thinking about it now twists something inside him, and he tastes bile in the back of his throat.

"It was a desire demon, I think," he says after a moment.  "Offering me what I wanted most."

"But you said no." Dorian's voice is soft and tinged with sympathy.

Kestrel nods his agreement.  "I said no."

They are both silent for a long moment.  Kestrel isn't sure if Dorian is waiting for more details, but if he is, he will be waiting for a long time.  

"Well," Dorian finally says in a brisk tone.  "I am sure you would make a very handsome abomination, but I doubt you would be the man you are now.  And since I am quite fond of you the way you are, I feel that you made the correct decision."

Kestrel smiles and reaches up to catch Dorian's hand.  He tugs until Dorian moves from the edge of the desk to his lap, and wraps his arms around the Tevinter mage's waist.  "As do I," he murmurs just before their lips meet in a soft kiss.


End file.
